No One Gets Out Alive

(Source: bettylebonbon, via goodmorning-flower)

And we lay for hours. We sit and listen to the pouring rain, praying it never stops because with every rain drop I gain another second here with you. My eyes are closed, but I still see you. Eyes closed, one arm resting softly on your chest, the other stroking my hair to the percussion of the storm. A gentle smile on your lips, humming along with the music that I hardly remember starting. I see you etched into my mind because this is your happy place, as it is mine. But it means so much more that it is yours, because I feed off of your energy. With each touch I am calmed, as if your hands are the ocean’s softest waves, and my body is the sand, reassured with every meeting. And we lay. I’m too afraid to move, but I let words occasionally melt through my lips as I exhale because I simply cannot contain myself. “I love you,” I whisper, and I thought you didn’t hear me. But all at once, I was lying on your chest buried under your arms, you were there, all at once, holding me tightly. Kissing my hair, you responded in the most angelic voice imaginable that you love me as well. And in that moment, I prayed to never lose you. Because I will simply never be capable of loving anyone the way my entire existence loves you